


Sunrise

by ScripStrel



Series: Celestial AU [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Celestial AU, Established Relationship, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Human Jeremy Heere's Squip, M/M, Magical Realism, Minor Original Character(s), Mythology - Freeform, Mythology References, Star Christine, Sun Michael, Urban Fantasy, inconsistent updates, moon Jeremy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24767959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScripStrel/pseuds/ScripStrel
Summary: Life moves in cycles, and Jeremy's been lucky enough that this time around, the sun is shining on him.But when college life gets cryptic and the consequences of godhood get in the way, can he stay in the sunlight?Or is he about to be ripped out of orbit?A long-put-off sequel to Moonfall!
Relationships: Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere/Madeline, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Series: Celestial AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791184
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





	1. Heatwave

Jeremy had to admit, he never thought he’d actually make it here. High school was a rollercoaster of shit, and with how much the end of senior year had him actually wanting to jump off a cliff, college was the ultimate milestone. The light at the end of the tunnel, the next checkpoint in this game of life. He’d been stuck on the last level for so long, and he could finally face the final boss.

Yet somehow, no matter how many times he went through it, life would always throw him for a loop. 

“Michael,” he said slowly, as if to a petulant child, “you  _ always _ need a night light. Your mom specifically reminded me to remind you to bring a night light, and then made sure I brought one too because she knew you’d forget.” Now, Michael would never admit it to anyone—even as a kid, he thought it made him sound childish—but Jeremy had had enough sleepovers with the guy to be very familiar with his ‘totally fake, you don’t know what you’re talking about’ fear of the dark.

“Jer,” Michael said, obviously choking back laughter, “we’re sharing a room. This is  _ our _ room.” Michael cast an appraising gaze around the dorm, throwing his arms out to show off the  _ immensity _ of their tiny quarters. Their beds were parallel against opposite walls, still unmade. Half of their shit was still stuffed in the cardboard box barricade between them and the door. The only decoration so far was the Pac-Man patterned blackout curtain hung in front of the tiny window. Michael shoved himself off the ground where he’d been trying to piece together a small bookshelf. “Look at how close together these beds are. You’ll be literally three feet from me at all times.” 

“So?”

Michael grinned. “So you’re all the light I need,” he said with a wink.

Jeremy sighed and threw the offending night light on the nearest bed. “Shut up. You’re a sap.”

Stepping towards him, Michael said, “I’m  _ your _ sap.”

Jeremy bit his lip and crossed his eyes trying to keep up his glare. “Michael Mell, are you flirting with me?”

Somehow, Michael got even  _ closer. _ “Have been forever, but thanks for noticing.”

“You’re a really bad flirt.”

Michael rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Shut up! I’m trying, at least.”

Jeremy could taste Michael’s laughter in the thin slice of air between them. He smothered a smile and shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder what I see in you,” he said, yanking himself away from Michael’s addicting warmth. 

Michael gave him a scandalized look. “Excuse you,” he protested, “I am a  _ delight. _ I’m like, a star. I’m the biggest, brightest star you’re ever gonna see.” 

It took all of Jeremy’s self control not to burst out laughing. Instead, he turned his attention to the nearest box, which was overflowing with tangled video game controllers. “I dunno,” he said. “You seem pretty average to me.” 

Michael furrowed his brow. “Um. No,” he said, and then a devious smirk pulled at his lips. “Pretty sure you’ve complimented the size of my—”

Jeremy’s face ignited in an instant. “Dude! Really?” 

Michael’s laughter could sustain life. It could make flowers grow and babies smile. It could clear away the darkest storm. The room brightened and Jeremy forced himself not to grin as Michael, still giggling, wrapped him in a hug. “I really love you, man,” Michael said. 

Jeremy hummed, cheeks still tingling with warmth. “Love you too,” he grumbled. And then he kissed him. Because he couldn’t stay grumpy with Michael’s smile  _ right there. _ It was another one of those things that made his insides feel the way summer felt: bright and soft and like there wasn’t a care in the world. Like fireworks glittering in a sky full of barbecue smoke, like fireflies blinking around a campfire where marshmallows roasted into caramel, like ocean spray and a boardwalk shining neon with carnival lights and fried food. Like everything was right, and sweet, and warm. 

Finally, reluctantly, Jeremy pulled away. “Are you  _ sure _ you don’t want a night light?”

Michael laughed again. “Jeremy, babe,” he said like there was something obvious. Like Jeremy was an idiot. He winked at him and clambered between boxes to the light switch by the door.. He flicked it, and the room was plunged into darkness. 

For about three seconds, that is. “Oh. Right,” Jeremy mumbled, face warm and skin radiating a soft white light. 

“Jeremy Heere, human night light.”

“Shut  _ up.” _

* * *

Their room was connected to another via the bathroom, and Jeremy was dreading meeting their suitemates. They were not his cup of tea, judging by the fact that one of them went party-hopping as soon as the RAs let him leave the building, and the other blasted country music all night (“It’s not about genre, Michael. Has he never heard of headphones?”). Unfortunately, Michael had a point that they should at least meet the people they were going to be living with all year, so they dragged them—one hungover and the other rolling his eyes, oh joy—to the on-campus Pinkberry the next morning.

The yogurt shop was painted in bright color blocks, yogurt machines on one wall and a toppings station on another. The employees were mostly upperclassmen—the cashier was a music education major, Jeremy discovered because Michael seemed to be in a particularly social mood. The air was sugary and cool, and Jeremy would have loved to hang here under other circumstances. As it was, it made him vaguely homesick. Their company, on the other hand, made him physically sick. 

They didn’t know each other from high school the way Jeremy and Michael did, and Jeremy immediately decided that they wouldn’t ever know that he and Michael were together after they called him gay and girly just for taking a theatre minor. Michael smiled tightly and steered the conversation towards Country Boy’s lacrosse scholarship while Jeremy stirred his yogurt into soup. 

Party Animal was undeclared and definitely gonna get them in trouble for alcohol possession before Halloween. Country Boy was a textbook redneck who was already annoyed at the fact that his Intro to Econ class was being taught by a woman. Jeremy texted Christine under the table the whole time, begging her to come save them. Michael was maintaining an air of cheerful curiosity next to him, but Jeremy could tell just from the tone in his voice that his temperature was rising. God, it was gonna be hot when they went back outside. 

Finally, Christine came to their rescue with a jingle of the doorbell and a blast of hot air from outside. Her face was flushed and her hair tied up. Her roommate trailed behind her, clearly dragged along. “Oh, hi guys! Thanks for inviting us, Jeremy! Froyo was the best idea. It’s like an oven out there.”

Country Boy scoffed. “Brought your girlfriend along, Shakespeare?” Meanwhile, Party Animal was giving Christine’s roommate a look up and down. She glared at him, but didn’t say anything. 

Christine grinned. “Nope! I’m just a friend. My name’s Christine! Madeline and I went to the same high school as these guys.”

“Pull up a chair, ladies,” Party Animal said, the smarm evident in his voice and his continued leer at Madeline. Something flashed in Christine’s eyes. She forced a giggle and nodded, pulling Madeline towards the yogurt bar. Michael crossed his arms over the table. 

“Dude. Don’t be gross. They’re our friends,” Jeremy said. 

Party Animal smirked. “Hey, she’s not your girlfriend, what do you care?”

_ “Christine’s _ not my girlfriend.” 

Michael shot him a look, and Jeremy immediately regretted the implications of the statement. He didn’t want his misogynistic homophobe suitemates picking on him or his friends, but he didn’t mean to say… He’d never even  _ talked  _ to Madeline. He was pretty sure she’d been in some of his classes in high school, and Jenna and Chloe seemed to know her, but… 

“Never seen you get so defensive of her before, man,” Michael said, nudging him under the table. His jaw was set, but he wasn’t protesting. Or correcting him. Okay. Sure. They could work with this. Michael was willing to play along to stop her getting hit on, and he didn’t seem super offended at the idea of Jeremy pretending to date someone else, so… 

Jeremy also saw Christine watching them from across the restaurant and whispering something to Madeline. Guess this was the plan, then. 

“I don’t like strangers hitting on my friends, okay? Whether she’s my girlfriend or not.”

“Woah, okay! I’m no stranger. I’ll lay off your girl. Just keep it cool.” Party Animal raised his hands as if surrendering. 

Christine and Madeline joined them, both carrying cups of yogurt. Christine’s was loaded up with chocolate chips, cookies, popping boba, whipped cream, hot fudge, star-shaped sprinkles, and at least half of the sugary toppings available. Madeline had opted for a single cherry atop her sundae. Christine happily settled between Jeremy and Michael, having a silent conversation with the latter as she stole a bite of his yogurt. Michael’s jaw was set. He curled in on his still-folded arms. Jeremy forced himself to smile at Madeline, gesturing to the empty chair next to him. She nodded and smiled back, scooting closer to him, but just barely. 

“You doing okay, Maddie?” Jeremy asked, cringing at the unsolicited nickname. “You’re pretty quiet.”

She poked at her froyo. “Just tired. Move-in and all that.” Her voice was nice. Lyrical and steady, especially considering she’d been dragged into Jeremy’s dumb lie. It wasn’t climbing up her throat and scrambling with her words the way it was for him. 

“Oh my  _ god, _ it was exhausting,” Christine said, even more emphatically than usual. “Michael, you drove, right? I don’t know how you guys did it without your parents to help. We had to go to Target like  _ four _ times for command strips and a vacuum and a tool kit to put together Madeline’s bookshelf, and—”

Country Boy cut her off. “She always like this?” he asked Michael, voice laced with contempt.

“As long as I’ve known her,” he said cheerfully. There was a fire in his gaze. Instinctively, Jeremy knew that the sidewalk outside had started steaming.

Christine knew it too. She glanced at Jeremy and chewed her lip. “We don’t want to keep you guys here too long. I’m sure you still need to pick up textbooks and stuff. We were planning to explore campus once it cools down later tonight if you guys want to meet up?”

“Sure, yeah,” Jeremy said, hastily standing. “C’mon, guys.”

Their suitemates protested for a moment, but Michael also stood and gathered their empty yogurt cups. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing the girls around more. You’ll get to know them just fine,” he said.

“Bye Chris,” Jeremy said, and then, because he had to keep up appearances, he gave Madeline’s head a quick kiss. Her wavy hair tickled his nose. “Bye Maddie.”

The September heat hit like a brick wall as they exited the air conditioning, and Jeremy was dripping sweat by the time they got back to their dorm, the sunlight beating down like pelting rain. It stung at his skin. Michael was silent the whole walk back, refusing to meet Jeremy’s gaze. Their new asshole friends complained about the heat, and Jeremy fought to breathe against the heat wave and the stone in his chest. That did  _ not _ go as planned. 

Michael flopped onto his bed in the dark. Jeremy bid a hasty goodbye to their suitemates and closed the door. It took everything in him not to slam it. 

“Dude, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think—”

“You were right,” Michael grumbled into his pillow. “That was a terrible idea.”

“I can totally pretend to break up with Madeline right now and—”

“Jeremy. It’s fine.” His words were muffled by the pillowcase.

The room was cool and dark, lit only by Jeremy. The light wavered along with his voice. “No, it’s  _ not. _ You’re pissed, and I totally deserve it.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Michael said, rolling over.

Jeremy kicked the bedpost. “Bullshit. It’s a hundred and five degrees outside.”

Michael sat up with a groan. “I’m not mad at  _ you, _ okay? I’m pissed at  _ them. _ I haven’t met bigger assholes in  _ centuries. _ And we’re friends with Rich and Jake.” He chuckled and shook his head, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes. “Like, I knew they existed, but I forgot just how bad they were in person.”

“So… So we’re okay?” Jeremy’s relief came like a blast of AC. 

Michael looked at him, gaze soft. “Dude, of course. I was like three seconds away from decking him. He was looking at her like she was a piece of  _ meat.”  _ He shoved his glasses back on his face. They glinted in the moonlight. “I mean, I’m surprised about how you went about it, but I totally get it.”

Jeremy collapsed onto the bed with him. “God, I hated that.”

Michael laughed, shifting his weight to give Jeremy more room, and wrapping an arm around him. “Me too. Let’s make a pact now that we stop trying to make new friends.”

“Fucking deal.”

Michael’s head flopped back down on the pillow. He traced little crescent shapes on Jeremy’s arm with his free hand. “Seriously, I can’t believe he’d actually do that shit. Madeline’s pretty, sure, but like—in  _ public? _ He didn’t even know her name yet.”

“And I thought  _ I  _ was a pervert,” Jeremy said. “I’ll totally break up with her in like a week, dude.”

Michael shrugged. Jeremy’s head moved with his shifting shoulder. “I mean. It’s not like we’re gonna be hanging out with them. And she knew it was fake.”

Jeremy sat up to look at him. “Yeah, but what if they keep asking?”

“And what if they try shit again once you’re broken up?” Michael asked. “Would you really put it past them?”

He bit his lip. “I mean… Didn’t she have an on-off thing with Jake a few years ago? She can probably take care of herself.”

“You and I both know that Jake is much less of a douchebag than he seems.”

Jeremy sighed and laid back down. “What if you end up thinking I’m gonna leave you for a human girl?”

Michael laughed. It rumbled in his chest under Jeremy’s ear. “Jer, you didn’t realize your crush on me for  _ ages. _ If I could wait for your dumb ass, I can wait for those assholes to back off. Or for Maddie to get a real date. Don’t worry.”

Jeremy sighed and cuddled into Michael’s side, trying to force himself to relax. 

What a way to start his college career. 


	2. Due Next Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna be a long semester.

Jeremy  _ desperately  _ wished that he’d taken the advice. His dad had told him, Michael had told him, most of his other friends had told him—hell, it was the first college tip you’d find online. But Christine, still somehow set on an internal clock from the Middle Ages, had convinced him that he should optimize his time, so he was dragging himself out of bed and across campus at seven-thirty in the morning so that he wouldn’t be late for his first ever college class. 

And so he could grab coffee in hopes of actually surviving it. 

He slid into a seat at the back of the lecture hall at seven-fifty-five and scanned the heads of his classmates while sipping at his shitty cafeteria latte. A group of girls chatted among themselves in the front row, colored pens and neat planners arranged between iced coffees and hydroflasks. Several students further back had pulled out their computers. Some were scrolling through Youtube while others checked their emails or stared at empty note-taking documents. One kid was halfway through losing a round of League of Legends, and the dude right in front of Jeremy was looking simultaneously at his class schedule and the weird part of PornHub. Most everyone else was either on their phone or glancing at the door and shifting in their seat. A blank chalkboard sat like a black hole at the front of the room. A projector fan hummed in the ceiling, and two separate clocks ticked from opposite walls, just slightly out of sync. 

At eight-o’-three, the door swung open, and in strode the professor, followed closely by Madeline. Huh. Guess she was in this class. She hung her head and darted to the one open seat—next to PornHub kid, ouch. 

“Good morning.” Every head in the room darted towards the front. Jeremy sat up straighter. The professor’s voice was calculated and commanding. Like a spreadsheet or an assignment marked in red pen. He was dressed in pressed business clothes, dark hair trimmed and tailored into a careful coif and neat beard. He smiled, bright but stiff. In the fluorescent lights of the lecture hall, he shimmered with spearmint and rubbing alcohol. Jeremy shuddered, downing the last of his coffee to chase the flavor of disinfectant from the back of his tongue. 

“I am Professor Stephen Quip. Welcome to Introduction to World Mythology. I understand that many of you are here to fulfill your essential learning credits. Nevertheless, we will go into as much detail as possible. It is my objective to send you into the rest of your education with a firm grasp of human culture and how it develops. If you are especially diligent, the information gleaned from this course can influence your interactions with modern culture. We will analyze trends in belief systems over time, many of which have been maintained in contemporary society.” 

As he spoke, he wrote his name and the course number on the chalkboard, the creaking of chalk harmonizing with his crisp vocal inflections. He then listed several ancient societies, and Jeremy’s squirming stomach settled a little. He was pretty sure he could handle the standard info. Even if all the P-names in Greece had always driven him mad. He’d specifically avoided talking to the blind cyclops by name, knowing full well he’d accidentally say Prometheus instead—which definitely wasn’t right. 

He just had to keep his head down. He could do that. 

“Your syllabus is provided in the online course portal,” Professor Quip continued. “I expect you to read it on your own time and adhere to the deadlines listed. Your first reading assignment is on chapters one through six. It is due next class. The campus bookstore has recently restocked the textbook, so I will not be accepting any excuses or late work.” 

Or maybe the teacher was a dick and it would take a miracle to pass. Quip’s piercing gaze scanned the classroom, making note of every student. He locked eyes with Jeremy, and something shifted in his expression. Jeremy’s heart skipped a beat. Did he fuck up already? Was he slouching? Did he forget to brush his hair? Shit, was he glowing?

But the look was gone as soon as it arrived, leaving Jeremy to let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“My teaching assistant will take attendance, and then you are dismissed.” And with that, he swept out of the lecture hall. Chatter started up immediately. What the fuck was that? Who decided that a hardass CEO should teach a freshman humanities course? Was it too early to drop the class? Less than ten minutes had passed, with no actual instruction, and yet every student in the room was painfully aware that they were in for living hell. Jeremy’s shoulders drooped as the door slammed shut, like an elastic in his spine had been cut. 

The girl sitting next to him muttered under her breath, “What masochist would be  _ his  _ TA?” just as Madeline stood, clipboard in hand, cleared her throat, and began calling out names. 

After a frustratingly long list and several disgruntled acknowledgements, a tidal wave of zipping backpacks and annoyed gossip resurfaced. Jeremy cornered Madeline as she hoisted her bag on her shoulders. PornHub kid ducked out of view, and Jeremy didn’t blame him (he’d been caught watching porn at school before. The conversation wasn’t pretty). 

“Look,” she said, “I appreciate you trying to help yesterday, but I’m not your girlfriend. You don’t have to escort me or anything.” 

Oh. She thought he wanted to talk about—

To be fair, when he and Michael had met up with the girls for a campus navigation adventure, Madeline was pretty dead-set on pretending he didn’t exist. She’d walked on her own behind their little group, alternating between texting and silently watching the surroundings. Christine was going on about auditioning for the school improv troupe while Jeremy and Michael humored her. Michael played hopscotch on the sidewalk tiles and invented names and personalities for the people who hadn’t closed their blinds and could be seen through their dorm windows. Jeremy was just happy to enjoy a summer evening with his two favorite people in the universe. The moon was full, he was holding Michael’s hand, and calm power coursed through his veins. It was comforting to know that college wasn’t going to throw off his sense of gravity. 

But yeah, they’d kinda ignored Madeline. 

“No, yeah, I didn’t—” Jeremy stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I should’ve talked to you about it or something. Sorry.” 

She looked at him. “It’s okay. Thanks, or whatever.” Her eyes were grayish and wary, brown without any of the golden warmth that Jeremy admired so much in Michael’s. She had her hair pulled into a ponytail, which fell across her back in ashy brown waves (wasn’t it blonde in high school?). Her makeup was pristine, as far as Jeremy could tell, and her teeth glinted pearly white behind glossed lips. 

Jeremy rocked on his heels. “So you’re a TA already? That’s cool.”

Madeline brushed her hands on her pants. The skinny-jeans and blouse combo seemed a little much to Jeremy, who was still wearing the shirt he’d slept in and had literally thrown on the first pair of jeans he saw. “Yeah,” she said. “I read some of the textbook over the summer and realized that historical anthropology sounded pretty cool. I emailed Professor Quip and asked if he needed any classroom help and, well.” She gestured to the steadily clearing lecture hall. 

Jeremy nodded. So she wasn’t sleeping with the professor—not that he thought she had been. Madeline just had a… reputation in high school. Most of it was Chloe and Jenna talking shit, but Jeremy heard a lot of it, being  _ friends _ with Chloe and Jenna. And Jake, who was not shy about discussing his sexploits. 

“Right, well.” Jeremy rubbed the back of his neck. “I should probably get going. And get started on the homework, I guess.”

“The first few chapters aren’t that bad. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He lifted his backpack higher on his shoulders. “Good to talk to you.”

“Yeah.” Madeline pressed her lips together, looking indecisive for a moment. “Hey, hand me your phone real quick.”

“Uh, okay?” Jeremy fished it from his pocket. Madeline typed something out and passed it back. 

“If you want people to believe I’m your girlfriend, you’ll need this.” She’d added herself to his contacts, listed as  _ Maddie _ with a sparkly heart emoji. “And I might be able to help you with homework or whatever.”

She left without another word. Her ponytail swung back and forth as Jeremy watched her leave. She flicked the light switch by the door, plunging the room into silent darkness, save for the humming projector, out-of-sync clocks, and the faint glow of moonlight. 

* * *

Michael finally met up with him at lunch, carting a single piece of pizza and a plate piled high with cakes, cookies, and brownies. 

“Dude,” he said, sliding into the dining hall booth next to Jeremy. “There’s no way you have homework already.” 

“Do too,” Jeremy grumbled. His own half-eaten food was pushed aside to make room for his tome of a mythology textbook. “Six chapters and a response by Wednesday.”

“Shit, man. That’s brutal.”

Jeremy shut the book with a snap and a sigh, slumping against Michael’s shoulder. “The professor’s a maniac. Pretty sure he hates me already.”

Michael wrapped an arm around him, allowing Jeremy to curl into his side. “Nah, I doubt it. It’s not like you’ve missed anything yet.”

Jeremy made a noise in his throat, cuddling closer to Michael’s warmth. “Just a feeling.” He glanced at his food, suddenly remembering the appetite he’d been ignoring in favor of not screwing himself over with the homework. “Can I have a cookie?”

“Sure,” he said, mouth full. “They’re kinda gross, though.” Jeremy just grunted again, making no effort to reach for the plate. Michael rolled his eyes and swallowed. “What? Do I have to feed it to you, you big baby?”

“Gimme a break. I’ve been up since sunrise.”

Michael took another bite of the cookie. “I can tell you for a fact that the sun rose at six-fifteen today. Your alarm woke me at seven.”

“Seven-thirty,” Jeremy protested.

“Just because  _ you _ can sleep through a beeping phone for half an hour doesn’t mean we all can.”

Jeremy reached up and snatched the half-eaten dessert from Michael’s hand. It was stale, the chocolate chips failing to mask the flavor of styrofoam. He grimaced. “Damn. I hoped college cafeteria food would be better than the stuff in high school.”

Michael shrugged, switching his attention to the pizza. “At least it’s not literal plastic. They just can’t season anything in case people have allergies.”

“I pity the poor soul who’s allergic to salt,” Jeremy said, stuffing the rest of the cookie in his mouth. “How are your classes?”

“Fine. Music theory was weird. The teacher went around the room asking what instrument everyone played and it turns out I’m the one asshole who’s taking the class because I want to, not because I’m a music major who has to.”

Jeremy laughed and sat up. “Don’t tell me you’ve pissed off the band kids already.”

Grinning, Michael said, “Nah, but it’s weird to hear how everyone plays three different instruments and then there’s me saying I haven’t touched a piano since I was last at my grandma’s house.”

Jeremy narrowed his eyes. “Whatever happened to being the god of music?”

“Can you drive a chariot anymore?” Michael asked with a sideways smile. “No one even knows what a lyre is nowadays.” 

The moment of banter faded, and the knot in Jeremy’s stomach returned. “At least you got to learn people’s names and stuff,” he said. “Quip just lectured and kicked us out.”

“Quip?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow. “You mean like the person who wrote your textbook?”

Jeremy followed his gaze to the cover of the book. “Son of a bitch.” Printed right on the front was the name  _ S. Quip.  _ “I paid four-hundred bucks to stoke a teacher’s ego.” He slumped down in his seat and crossed his arms. “No wonder the stuff I’ve read so far is so preachy.”

Michael reached across him and picked up the offending text. “Holy shit, this is heavy.” He plunked it on the table in front of them, rattling the dishes. Flipping randomly to a page near the front, he began to read. “‘The Philosophy of Religion.’ Ugh. ‘Throughout human civilization, narrative conjecture has been the primary tool to contextualize—’ blah, blah, blah…” He grimaced, flipping ahead. “You’re right, this is stupid and dense.”

“I’m just gonna drop out. How ‘bout that?” Jeremy ran a hand over his face. Barely noon on day one, and college was already showing its true colors: just as shitty as school always was. Not sure why he got his hopes up.

Michael didn’t respond, glaring at the page as he read.

“What?” Jeremy asked, leaning over. “Does it get worse? I was kidding about dropping out.”

“I think I figured out what beef this Squip guy has with you.”

Jeremy’s ears started ringing. “What?”

Storm clouds glazed Michael’s eyes. Outside, a layer of gloom rolled in, dimming the light from the cafeteria windows. “Right here,” he said, pointing. “Just after the stuff about creation myths.”

The stark type near his finger blurred with the lines around it as Jeremy forced his eyes to focus. Indeed, just after a paragraph that featured the words ‘existential musings,’ and ‘society-defining queries,’ (Ugh) sat a prophecy of doom. 

_ “Another such commonality is the anthropomorphization of observable reality. As science has evolved, such interpretations of deities have largely fallen into obscurity, but the trends remain visible: nature, knowledge, life and death, celestial objects. They are ascribed names, identities, and fields of influence as those of monarchs. It begs the question: why are certain trends more prevalent across pantheons than others? Might there have been a grain of observable truth that transcended cultures? We will explore this in further depth later.” _

Celestial objects. Jeremy nearly hit his head on the table. 

“Goddamnit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I completely made up an appearance for Madeline. I feel kinda bad basically turning her into an OC, but it serves my purposes the best, I think.   
> Not much fluff this chapter, sorry. I'll add more once we get past the exposition. 
> 
> I adore feedback, so please feel free to tell me what you think!


	3. Moonshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rad excuse to put your body through mad abuse.

“Christine,” Jeremy said over the noise of the crowd. “You had  _ this  _ much Malibu. You aren’t drunk.” He held up two fingers, about an inch apart. His third serving of a horrendous jungle juice mixture taunted him from the solo cup in his other hand.

“No but my face feels warm and—” she hiccuped slightly. “See? I’ve never had alcohol before, I must have really low tolerance.” Jeremy slumped down in the leather couch. He took a sip of the jungle juice and grimaced. Nail polish remover meets jolly ranchers. As always. 

As parties go, he’d been to worse. Jake’s Halloween party came to mind, for one, but there were also some miserable bangers as far back as the existence of alcohol. Don’t party with Maenads if you want to keep all your limbs. He glanced at Christine, gesturing wildly to a sophomore who seemed to be humoring her. It was _not_ her first time drinking, even in this lifetime, but rum was probably the strongest thing she’d had. Even if she had less than half a shot’s worth. 

“Hey. Jeremy, right?” He turned to find one of the hosts of the party sitting on the arm of the couch next to him. “You’re a minor?”

The first house party of his college career was a theatre department thing. It was a starless Saturday night and he wouldn’t have bothered to come if he wasn’t cornered by a group of seniors after his acting class on Tuesday. And then coerced by Christine. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry, who are you?

A chuckle. “Oops, sorry. I’m Casey, nice to meet you.” She had wavy auburn hair and winged eyeliner to cut a bitch. Very much an artsy type. She was holding a half-empty beer.

“Hey,” he said. “Yeah, I guess so?—Don’t know what I’m majoring in yet, though.” he mumbled the last bit into his jungle juice.

“Oh dude, that’s totally normal. You’ve got time to figure that shit out.” Casey took a sip from her own drink. “How was your first week?”

He shrugged. “Fine, I guess. My mythology teacher’s a nutcase.”

“Who? Quip?” Jeremy nodded. “God, that guy sucks,” she groaned. “Sorry you have to deal with that.”

“It’s fine, I guess,” he said. “Just a gen ed.”

She snorted. “You’re optimistic. Seriously, he’s a fucking asshole. Don’t be afraid to drop it if you need to.” He nodded and took another swig of jungle juice. “Careful with that,” she said. “You don’t want to throw up in the bushes.”

Jeremy frowned. “Does that usually happen?”

Casey laughed. “With at least one freshman a year. I think Heather had some hangover meds that she was handing out. And Gabe’s got cheez-its, if you need food.”

“I’m good thanks,” Jeremy said. “So everyone here is a theatre person?”

“Yep,” she said, shifting her weight on her perch. “We like to keep the parties closed so they don’t get out of control, but we only really enforce it for the hazing.” 

Chatter filled the little house, which consisted of the tiny living room, an even smaller kitchen, and a few bedrooms hidden in the off-limits second level. The lights were dim, a color spectrum coming from strings of e-boy LEDs. There was beer pong in the backyard, jello shots, and three upperclassmen shotgunning a vape in the corner. Most of the freshmen were gathered on the couch, and Jeremy at least recognized all of them from acting. A couple of older girls came by every so often to do a roll call, quizzing themselves on names down the couch, too drunk to remember any of them come Monday. “I don’t feel like I’m being hazed.”

Casey punched him on the shoulder. “It’s metaphorical. The real hazing comes when you’re in a show. But even then, it’s nothing like what the frat guys get up to.”

“God, I know,” Jeremy said. “My suitemate came home at four am and locked himself in the bathroom for like twelve hours. I had to pee so bad.”

“Oh yeah, they’ll fuck you up,” she said with a grin. “Sorry it sounds like you have a shitty roommate too.”

Jeremy swallowed his mouthful of booze suddenly. “No!” he sputtered. “No, uh, my—my roommate’s great! We’re in a semi-suite. The other guys are assholes.”

Christine giggled, apparently eavesdropping. “Yeah, don’t go calling Michael shitty. Jer will smite you if you talk bad about the light of his life.” 

Casey smirked. “Alright, sorry for insulting your boyfriend.” When he didn’t correct her, she raised an eyebrow. “Wait, really? Nice, dude! You guys knew each other from high school?”

“Y-yeah,” Jeremy said, heat rising to his face. “He’s been my best friend basically forever. Just like. My favorite person. I didn’t think he liked me back until about a year ago.” He never got to talk about Michael like this. A flood of flattery threatened its way up his throat. He chugged the rest of his dink to keep it down. 

“Ah, mutual pining. A plus romance arc, dude. Congrats.” She held out her drink to toast him. Jeremy tapped his empty cup against her beer can. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. A Snapchat from Michael. The video was shaky, Michael’s phone unsteady in his hand as he filmed, exclaiming about a kickass round of AotD Online. “I’ll have to give you the play-by-play in person,” he said. “Don’t get eaten by the theatre dorks.” Even in the dim light of their dorm, Michael’s eyes shone like a summer sky. Jeremy’s skin warmed with the thought.

“They won’t eat me. I taste like shit,” he said in response, Christine giving a peace sign to the camera over his shoulder. 

Michael sent another video a moment later. “I dunno, man. I’ve got a weird feeling about it. Let me know when you’re on your way back, okay?” This video was steady. Michael’s energy dimmed. He still smiled, his tone joking and aware of the girls in the background, but Jeremy heard the twinge in his voice.

He might not be much of a music god anymore, but Michael had never lost the gift of prophecy. It wasn’t inhaling vapors and spewing rhymes anymore, but a vivid dream? An oddly specific random thought? Sometimes, he would take his glasses off to rub at his eyes, muttering something about glare or dust making him see things. Michael having a weird feeling  _ meant _ something.

But the jungle juice was settling in Jeremy’s stomach, fuzzing the edges of rational thought. Besides, it’s not like his boyfriend was really freaking out. He hadn’t kept them both up with nightmares recently. Probably nothing major—alcohol beats anxiety.

“You’re so lucky Michael cares about you, Jeremy,” Christine said, leaning her head against him. She’d reached the self-pity stage of the night. “Madeline didn’t even look up from her laptop when I told her I was leaving.”

Jeremy laughed. “She’s taking like twenty credits, right? Probably doesn’t care about anything other than school right now.” Madeline had kept her promise of helping him survive mythology, but she was always working on something else at the same time. Honestly, it was pretty impressive. 

“It’s just a thing for public speaking. Public speaking’s  _ easy. _ It’s just like theatre but you’re playing a politician or whatever.”

Casey laughed, tossing her empty beer can on the coffee table. “Girl, you don’t even know yet. I’m taking that this year, and from what I’ve heard, it’s basically a whole semester of learning all the ways you’re talking wrong.”

“Do you know Maddie?” Christine perked up, nearly crawling into Jeremy’s lap to speak to Casey. “She went to our high school, and we’re living together, but I still feel like I barely know  _ anything _ about her. She never  _ talks  _ to me.” She gasped and turned her puppy eyes towards Jeremy. “Do you think maybe she doesn’t like me? Oh, god, that would be terrible! Imagine living with someone who secretly hates you! What if she tries to poison me? What if she gets us in trouble on purpose?”

“She might need some of those hangover meds,” Jeremy said to Casey, awkwardly petting Christine’s hair in hopes it would calm her. It wasn’t just the alcohol. Christine always got emotional and paranoid on overcast nights, and a bank of clouds had rolled in after Michael got frustrated with back-and-forth emails to his advisor that afternoon. The darkness of the sky itched beneath Jeremy’s skin too, but he was finally tipsy enough to ignore it.

Casey laughed. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. You seem like a great person so far.” She grabbed an unopened water bottle from the coffee table and handed it to Christine. “Yeah, I have the same class as her. I thought it was kinda weird to have a freshman in that class, but it sounds like she’s the overachiever type, so that makes sense. They’re not usually much for conversation with anyone. I’m sure it’s not personal.”

“Yeah, I know.” Christine sighed, casting her gaze across the room. Her brow furrowed. “Hey, Jer, you didn’t tell me your suitemate was a theatre major.”

Jeremy followed her gaze. Party Animal was standing near the bathroom door, already stumbling drunk and chatting up the girls who had been learning names. One of them had her hand in her pocket, presumably grasping for pepper spray. 

“Fucking asshole,” Casey said, but Jeremy was already on his feet. 

The moon was a patron of young women. Centuries ago, he rode a chariot through the night sky. He hunted magical creatures with an army of girls by his side. Jeremy definitely wasn’t a virgin goddess in this lifetime, but he was about to shoot this creep up the ass with an Olympian arrow. Also, his head was wobbly on his shoulders, sloshing with the settling alcohol. Reason wasn’t gonna do shit to deter this guy. Rage bubbled in his stomach and pulled him forward. 

“Hey! Jeremy! Dude!” he said. “I was just telling these lovely ladies how nice our dorm is. They should totally come spend the night, don’t you think?”

“Why the fuck are you here?”

He chuckled. “Man, you should've told me you were headed to a party tonight. You know I love this shit.”

“Sorry, dude,” Case said, coming to stand over Jeremy’s shoulder. “Theatre department only. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

His expression hardened. “Oh, it’s a  _ theatre _ party. No wonder you didn’t tell me, bro. You don’t want the word to get out that you’re cheating on Madeline with some Romeo motherfucker.”

Fire lit at the base of Jeremy’s skull. He breathed hard against the gravity collecting on his chest. “I’m not cheating on  _ anyone _ with  _ anyone. _ She told you to get out, dickhead.”

Party Animal rose up to his full height. “Who’s gonna make me?” His breath reeked of vodka and beer.

Jeremy threw a punch. Laughing, Party Animal sidestepped. The momentum sent Jeremy stumbling into the bathroom. 

“Man, you’re more of a pussy than I thought.” He took a swing at Jeremy, who ducked out of the way. “Sit still. This’ll be good for you.” 

Jeremy dodged again. He kicked at the back of Party Animal’s legs, sending him toppling against the sink. The next swing connected with Jeremy’s nose. 

Vision blurring with pain, he reached for his face. Redness came away on his fingers. 

“That ought to teach you.”

He imagined the clouds rolling away. Sharp teeth, ripping clothes, ripping flesh. Witches, werewolves, huntresses. Blood under the light of the moon. Jeremy clenched his fists and gravity shifted.

The faucet exploded. A fountain burst from the toilet. Party Animal shouted, and Jeremy kneed him in the crotch. He fell whimpering into the toilet bowl. Sputtering at the mouthful of sewage. 

Adrenaline draining fast, Jeremy staggered out of the flooding bathroom onto soggy carpet. People were shouting, trying to get a look at the carnage, trying to get outside. Casey pushed past him into the tempest. Across the room, he made eye contact with Christine. Her shoulders dropped with relief. 

“You’re bleeding,” she called.

Jeremy made it over to her and gathered his phone from the couch. There was another notification from Michael. "Don't let me stop you from having fun, though!" Jeremy sent a text, his fingers shaking and bloodstained. They were headed out.

“Do you think anyone will give us a ride?” Christine asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say the updates were gonna be inconsistent.  
> I figured I should start naming some of these background OCs, otherwise we'd end up with a real mess of pronouns. Did I intentionally use names from other musical characters? Yes. Are these meant to be those characters? Not really. I just needed names.  
> There's a lot of Greek mythology ending up in here. I'm gonna try to mix it up more later. 
> 
> I adore feedback, so please feel free to tell me what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> So, it's been forever since I've been able to write, and I figured I'd go back to this idea and see what happens. It's gonna be pretty different from Moonfall, but I hope to make it fun all the same!  
> I honestly wasn't planning for a Jeremy/Madeline fake dating thing to happen, but sometimes the muse takes over. I honestly have no idea what Madeline is supposed to look like, so I'm kinda winging it.  
> Jeremy and Michael are doing their best. 
> 
> I adore feedback, so please feel free to tell me what you think!


End file.
